


For The Moment

by trash_mammall



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sleep Deprivation, Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, bc that tag needs more fics, kleinphy, no violence or gore, oh so much angst, paranoid connor, sleep apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:37:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_mammall/pseuds/trash_mammall
Summary: "Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead//Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head//But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet."This is Home - Cavetown- - - - - - - - - - -The "Sleep-Apocalypse" hits and two boys are left in an incredibly empty world (it can be surprising, how one behaves when placed into intense circumstances.)PS no one actually dies /in text/





	For The Moment

**Author's Note:**

> TW: suicidal thoughts/ideation  
> this is the apocalypse so there's a good amount of "does continuing even matter"  
> mentions of scars and Connor cuts himself once (1) at the beginning to make sure he isn't dreaming

* * *

  _When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy._  
Griffin McElroy | The Adventure Zone, Ep. 66: The Stolen Century

* * *

 

Cable-TV wasn’t part of the Murphy household anymore. They had long tossed it aside in favour of AppleTV, claiming it was more convenient. This left Connor gathering news from his phone or laptop, whichever was open at any given time. It was easy, if a little more delayed in terms of “Breaking News,” but he couldn’t complain.

It was three in the morning.

He had been scrolling through Twitter, insomnia getting the better of him; that was where the confusion had first blossomed. Everyone who was up, whether due to ridiculous sleep schedules or different time zones, began spouting nonsense about the same topic, the same question.

_Is the Sleep-Apocalypse real?_

Connor snorted, and tried to ignore the various tweets. This wasn’t some dystopian novel, this wasn’t some alternate universe where apocalypses actually happened. This was just some ridiculous rumour that was getting too much attention.

He switched to Tumblr, then to FaceBook; that was where the fear began to set in. People were shouting out reports into the vast space of social media, crying that they couldn’t wake up their pets; their families.

They say the responses to high stress are one of two options: fight, or flight. You either stand your ground and attack the offender, despite the cause of the reaction, or you run away. You dash as far as you can as fast as your body can handle.

They don’t speak of the third option; they don’t talk about blatant refusal.

Connor shut off his phone, put his headphones on, and switched to YouTube.

* * *

It was supposed to be the first day of his senior year. He hadn’t been looking forward to it, school was always nothing but a gateway for space-wasters to spew their entitlement to teenagers who were either too tired or too mentally unhealthy to listen - often both.

But when the sun rose, his eyes scratchy and mouth raw from staying up all night, something felt off. The air was heavy around him, the lingering scent of weed in his hoodie providing more paranoia than he was used to. He rubbed his eyes from under his glasses, hoping to provide some much needed comfort.

It was seven in the morning.

Zoe should’ve pounded on his door at this point, his parents should’ve been arguing about something - Larry’s job or Connor’s attitude, they could take their pick. A part of him said good riddance, if no one was up that meant he wouldn’t have to get up either, not until they decided to move their asses.

But the more sensible part of him brought the point that he was trying to get better, with or without his parents’ help, and that included making sure Zoe was up so she had enough time to get ready for her first day as a junior.

He wanted to be a better brother, he really did.

He pushed himself out of bed.

Connor expected something. Some noise to break the suffocating silence layering on top of his chest. The shower, Zoe’s humming, the clattering of dishes in the kitchen. Any noise to lighten the pressure forcing itself against his temple and making his fingers twitch.

His knuckles wrapped on the door three times.

“Hey, Zoe, you better be up or else you’re gonna be late on your first day.” He tried to make the sound of his voice playful, warmer than it had been in the past. He was met with a silence that felt solid, definite.

“Zoe, seriously, get up, I know you’re not that heavy a sleeper.” Irritation was begging to drip from his words, though perhaps it was the chill running up his spine and the freezing of his blood that was providing the ice in his tone.

“I’m coming in,” he called, before cracking open the door.

Zoe was still in bed, hair tied up in a bun and sheets tousled from a long night of rest. Connor debated letting her sleep once again, pretend like today wasn’t the first day of school and let her rest, but, again, the sensible part of him pushed him forward.

She would thank him for this, even if she was pissy when she was tired. She’d be grateful that he hadn’t let her miss a day that was probably important for a popular girl like herself.

He lightly shook her shoulder, trying to lower his voice to gently wake her up. His words were still sharp around the edges, body not used to speaking in something akin to comfortingly. “Zoe, you need to get up. You can’t sleep forever, and Cynthia ‘nd Larry’ll be pissed if we skip today.”

Zoe didn’t move.

The frost in Connor’s veins seemed to thicken.

He shook her harder.

“Seriously Zoe, fucking get up. I’m too tired to deal with Larry getting on our asses.”

Nothing.

Connor pulled the comforter off of Zoe, vaguely hoping the chill of the air would do more than his fruitless attempts to shake her out of what had to be the deepest sleep she’d ever been in.

Zoe didn’t flinch.

Connor kicked the edge of the bed.

The creak of old wood echoed in the silent room, and Connor realized there weren’t any birds singing from outside the window.

* * *

Zoe never woke up.

Connor had gone as far as to lift her shoulders off the mattress, a primal part of him begging that this was some sick joke she was pulling on him - some prank to get him to admit he cared about her. He would’ve preferred that, actually. He would’ve preferred the overwhelming destruction of trust and anger-fueling embarrassment of being terrifyingly devastated, to the cold reality laid out in front of him.

Her face had been so cold.

He hadn’t screamed that loud, or that angrily, in quite some time.

Connor had then run down the stairs, directly to his parents’ room. They lay in bed as well, sheets wrapping them warmly as they lay on opposite sides. He did his best to shake them awake as well, but no matter how loud he demanded they wake up their eyes didn’t move.

Their bodies were cold as well.

Connor had yelled. Had thrown dishes and chairs and had screamed. Hot tears ran down his face and smudged his glasses as every emotion he knew and didn’t know thrust itself upon him. He had checked their pulses, then his own, then theirs again, and again his own. He had splashed ice cold water in his face, had pinched himself, and then, when he still didn’t wake from whatever nightmare this was, took a knife to his skin.

And when his throat was raw and his anger had fallen into exhaustion, he watched his blood drip down his forearm and mix with salty tears. He did not scream, he did not whine.

He did not know how long he sat there, red frames on the counter littered with smashed ceramic, in a broken kitchen with three empty bodies only a short distance away.

* * *

Connor had gathered a simple handful of things into a small bag.

His phone, his wallet, and every bottle of pills he could find in his house.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. A quick scroll on social media and he could confirm that the “Sleep-Apocalypse” was an actual thing. People were still posting warnings, posting stories of their own losses. He deleted his social media.

To confirm his suspicions, Connor had broken into his neighbours’ houses and checked on the sleeping families. The panic was no longer there as he opened doors to find cold bodies tucked into bed. He could tell himself they were simply sleeping; they would wake up eventually.

He then took his car out to the drugstore on the way to the orchard on the edge of town. He didn’t bother checking to see if anyone was there, and a sick part of him enjoyed the feeling of his fist breaking through glass, and the sound of his boots crunching the shards. He grabbed the largest bottle of ice tea he could get before he left - just because he was downing capsuled poison didn’t mean he had to use bland water to do it.

There were a couple stations still on, the all-nighters and ones that played the same genre of music on repeat without requiring anyone to actually do anything. His options seemed to be only panicking middle-aged men and the most inappropriate songs possible for this situation, so Connor shut the radio off.

The sound of the wind rushing by his open window was enough.

It was only a few minutes before the sign to the closed orchard came into view, overgrown vines clambering over a fence like nature trying to take back what it’d lost. The green tendrils seemed to weave through the gaps in the metal, shouting its longing for freedom in a silent song.

Connor pulled himself out of the car, his bag weighing down as he threw it over the fence.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky, casting warmth across the expanse of the orchard. There were few clouds, and had the birds been out it could’ve been an enjoyable day.

Connor was leaning against a large oak tree, simply watching the breeze push the leaves high above him. It was the only sound he could detect, and he lazily came to the conclusion that whatever this sleep-death was, it wasn’t only for humans.

His mind drifted to playing with his neighbour’s dog, at the time only being slightly taller than it. Connor realized he hadn’t heard the dog’s barking that morning, and quickly pushed that thought out of his head.

His eyes drifted down to his right hand, the knuckles bruised and cut. Red stained his skin and the joints burned uncomfortably. Underneath his sleeve the single line of cut skin itched and flamed with each brush of fabric. They reminded him he was, in fact, awake; reminded him he was not dead; reminded him this was not some sick dream.

He pulled his messenger bag closer, spilling the contents onto the grass in front of him. Taking each orange container, he lined them up from most full to least, casting aside the ones that wouldn’t do anything. The litre of ice tea was rolled from hand to hand, solid and almost overwhelmingly real.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing this instead of just falling asleep. Closure, maybe; he’d pictured killing himself too many times to count, and just closing his eyes seemed too simple. He needed to feel the weight of pills on his tongue and needed the certainty that he wouldn’t be walking out of this.

He could even try to fall asleep before the pills took their full effect, just to make sure.

The first bottle was heavy in his palm, the label staring up and taunting him.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?”

Connor froze, eyes shooting up to find the source of a too tired voice. Jared Kleinman was walking towards him from a few trees away, gaze dancing between Connor’s face and the small container clutched in his hands.

“What does it matter to you?” He reflexively pulled his hands closer to his chest, eyeing Jared warily.

“ _What does it matter?_ You’re about to fucking _kill_ yourself, what do you mean ‘what does it matter?’” Jared was standing directly in front of Connor now, casting a shadow across the scene.

Connor glared up at him, grip tightening around the bottle in his hand. This was supposed to be _easy,_ supposed to be _quick._

“Go _away,_ Kleinman, this doesn’t involve you,” he growled out.

“Like hell I’m gonna go away! I’m not gonna leave knowing you’re about to swallow the entire goddamn _drugstore!_ ” Jared began throwing the bottles back into the messenger bag, knees shaking just enough for it to be noticable.

Connor scoffed, pushing himself up to his feet. “Why in the _fuck_ would it matter to you whether or not I killed myself? You haven’t exactly been my biggest _fan_ as far as I can recall.” His voice startled himself, having only used the level of venom dripping from his words before the month of rehab.

Connor shoved Jared to the ground with one hand, almost scared at how easy it was to slip back into not caring. Not minding whether or not this damaged Jared because he wouldn’t be around to see the aftermath anyway.

“No, if I’m remembering right you’ve been calling me a psychopath for fucking _two years._ Everyone has, really, and you know what? Maybe they’re _fucking_ right, Kleinman!” Connor had a hollow smile plastered across his face, and with the sun now exposing Jared’s features it was obvious that his cheeks were splotched and his eyes were stained red. Connor didn’t think dwell on it.

“Listen, Connor-” Jared tried to speak up.

“No, _you_ listen, Kleinman: most of the country is probably dead at this point. People can’t survive without sleep so the world is fucking _ending_ or some bullshit. I’m not gonna wait around and watch everything burn - there’s no point in that. There’s no point in fucking _anything._ I just found my entire family fucking dead and I broke into a gas station and you want to try to tell me that it’s going to be alright-”

“Fucking _stop!_ ”

Connor was heaving, gulping in breaths as his eyes burned. Jared’s eyes were tightly shut, and his fists were balling up grass. There was a beat of silence before he stood up, fists now clenched at his sides and shaking slightly. There was another beat of silence before Jared looked up at Connor.

“I just had my best friend fall asleep on my _fucking_ shoulder, Connor Murphy. He fell asleep while I was playing fucking _Mario Kart_ and you want to tell me how fucking bad this is? I had to try to wake up my moms because I realized Evan wasn’t breathing and you, right now, want to tell _me_ that this situation is fucked up?” Jared’s words were ground out, eyes boring holes into Connor, who chose not to speak. “This isn’t going to be alright. Nothing is going to be alright and I _get_ that. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you off yourself on day one.”

Connor’s breathing had quieted, but his lungs continued to burn. He broke eye contact soon after Jared stopped talking, instead glaring at the container in his hand. His knuckles were bleached white, his grip tight enough his was almost surprised the plastic hadn’t snapped. He only realized he had begun crying again when the tears blotched his glasses, blurring the label until it was unintelligible.

“Fuck- sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh-” Jared scrambled for something to say, cutting off when Connor threw the bottle at the oak tree he had been leaning against.

“This is really, really messed up,” he giggled, “like, this seriously some messed up bullshit. Hansen fell asleep _on you,_ like, I can’t imagine a worse way for that to go down. I just- I fucking- holy _shit_ this is some way too fucking real nightmare.”

Connor covered his mouth, staring at the tree with wide eyes. He couldn’t tell if he was shaking because of the laughter he was trying to hold down or the tears that were forcing themselves into the open. Perhaps both.

Jared blinked, simply staring at Connor for a moment until he was able to process what was happening. Then he sighed, coughing to keep his voice from cracking.

“Yeah, this is some seriously messed up shit.”

Connor’s eyes moved back to look at Jared, fully taking in how tired he looked. They were both exhausted, emotionally drained and it was only noon. Jared fumbled with how to speak before his gaze dropped to his dirt-stained sneakers.

“Murphy, can I hug you?” His voice was a whisper, almost too quiet to hear, but when he cautiously looked back up to see Connor nod, arms moving to his side, that hesitance melted away.

Jared nearly launched himself at Connor, arms wrapping around his neck, made awkward by his trembling knees and the height difference. Connor’s arms wrapped around Jared’s torso and soon they were sitting on the ground, Jared nearly in Connor’s lap. Connor’s head was hidden against Jared’s collar, and Jared’s face did the same.

They were both visibly shaking, clutching onto each other like their lives depended on it, and maybe they did. Connor couldn’t help but feel terrified of what would come next. After they had to let go and face whatever was happening outside of the orchard.

So, for the moment, he stopped clutching the fear tight to his chest and uncapped the lid that had only been opened in moments of rage. For the moment, Jared forced that morning’s memories from the back of his eyelids and allowed his tears to stain Connor’s jacket.

For the moment, they let themselves break.

* * *

When neither of them had any more tears to give, Jared finished putting the medication in Connor’s bag and threw it out of arm’s reach. They sat side by side against the tree, hands holding out of pure desperation to not slip away.

“So, Hansen’s gone, eh?” Connor was the first to speak, but his eyes remained forward.

Jared nodded, grip tightening in slight reflex. “I’m kinda worried he died thinking I hated him, y’know? I mean, he’s super anxious already, and I don’t think I helped with the whole ‘family friend’ thing.”

Connor hummed, “I mean, that was definitely an asshole thing to do, but I feel like he would’ve known to some extent that you actually cared about him. It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve ever done.”

“God, thanks I guess,” Jared snorted.

Their sadness had melted into apathy and mild amusement with the tears, soaking into the earth below their feet and leaving traces on the wet patches on their respective shoulders.

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it was _okay,_ but you get that it was shitty and that’s what counts, I guess. It’s not like I should talk, I’ve done things way worse than your shit.” Connor shrugged, and he felt Jared’s grip on his hand ease a bit.

There was a pause of silence before Jared spoke up again, slight hesitancy lacing his curiosity. “You found Zoe?”

Connor nodded stiffly, taking in a deep breath. “Yeah, I was gonna try to wake her up because I thought she was gonna want to have more time to get ready for her first day. I wanted to try to be a good brother for once in my fucking life.”

Jared hummed, nodding slightly. “I can relate.”

“I was a shit brother, Kleinman. Way worse than you were to Evan. Before rehab I legit threatened to kill her - I was a living nightmare for her. For a while she couldn’t even be in the same room as me. I don’t think you can relate”

“Hey, I might not’ve been _as_ bad, but I was still pretty shit.”

Connor huffed, leaning his head back to watch the sun pierce through the leaves above. Jared allowed his eyes travel to study Connor’s profile, brows furrowed.

“I mean, you were trying to get better, right? That counts for something. I was trying to be better too, that’s why Evan was at my place at three in the morning. We were just a little too late to the punch.” This caused Connor to sigh and look down at Jared, eyeing him up and down before shrugging.

“I guess.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you wear glasses and I never fucking knew. How long’ve you had them?”

“I got glasses when I was hella young but I started wearing contacts pretty soon. Didn’t see a reason why I should give assholes another reason to bully me, y’know?”

“I mean, yeah, that makes sense, but also the frames are _red._ ”

“...Yeah. And?”

“I dunno! It’s weird! I’ve never seen you with glasses before, sue me for being interested!”

“You don’t know a _lot_ about me, Kleinman.”

“I’d like to.”

“Okay, one: that’s gay-”

“-So am I, continue.”

A chuckle.

“Okay, relatable, but two: you’ll probably be forced to.”

* * *

Connor and Jared walked between the trees and back to the parking lot where both of their cars remained. Their hands were still intertwined, and hadn’t parted since the tree. Being petrified of everything that is and will be can do odd things to one’s normal behaviors.

“Wait, which car are we taking?” Jared’s eyes shifted from his to Connor’s vehicle, eyeing them each.

“Doesn’t matter, we can just steal a better one later,” Connor shrugged.

Jared nodded, mumbling a “fair,” before pulling Connor to his car, preferring the spacious vehicle his moms had got him to Connor’s smaller one.

It was only when they were standing in front of the car that Connor fully realized they were still holding hands, and he quickly retracted his own. He couldn’t shake the uneasiness he felt, being untethered to someone else, but he tried to ignore it. Jared did the same, taking a breath before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Okay, where to?” Jared looked over at Connor curiously.

Connor hummed, drumming his fingers on his knee. “Let’s go to the drugstore to pick up some stuff for the road, yeah?”

Jared nodded and put the car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot. They both realized this was the last time they would visit the orchard, the home of memories tainted bittersweet due to what seemed to be their matching talent for aging poorly. As the overgrown fence disappeared in the rearview mirror they both let out a matching sigh, and Jared put on some music through his phone.

* * *

They stopped at the store Connor had previously broken into, grabbing a variety of things: food, every type of caffeinated beverage they could carry, water, various charger cables, and several large containers of gasoline for the road. Jared swore he needed gum, so he shoved a handful of packets into his pockets, and Connor swiped a few packs of cigarettes and a lighter.

Soon they were on the hunt for a better car, one that was larger and could hold more gas. It didn’t take long before they drove by a house that had an SUV in its driveway.

“Wait, are we just gonna break into the house and steal their keys?” Jared asked as he pulled into the driveway, a brow raised.

“I’ll do it if you don’t want to, but there’s no way the people in that house are shitty sleepers like we are so I don’t see the harm.” Connor shrugged, getting out of the car and checking around the front door for a hidden house key.

To his relief and Jared’s, Connor pulled a house key from underneath the welcome mat and opened the door, calling into the building to make sure no one was going to answer. Met with only silence, he shot Jared a thumbs up before continuing into the house.

The entry held photos of two kids and a dog, both children all shining eyes and hopeful smiles. Connor couldn’t help but place the frames face-down, whispering an apology as he did so. He didn’t _want_ to care, all of this would be much easier if he was as apathetic as he usually was in class, but he supposed the world didn’t work like that.

There was a dish holding a small assortment of keys, and Connor shifted through them, wincing at the sound of metal scraping against ceramic, before finding the proper set.

He didn’t hesitate to leave the building, locking the door behind him out of courtesy and placing the key back underneath the mat. Jared was standing outside the SUV with a pile of supplies in his arms, waiting for the click of the locks to sound.

After moving everything from one car to the other, Jared took his place in the driver’s seat again and pulled the SUV out of the driveway, letting out a sigh.

“This feels weird, y’know? Just taking their car?”

“I know, but we don’t have much of a choice and this _is_ better for the environment than your shitty car.” Connor watched the highway pass by, before plugging his phone into the sound system and setting a new playlist. “Your turn to decide where we go, okay?”

Jared nodded, but decided to hum along to the music instead of actually reply. His eyes kept on the lookout for a particular exit, an idea flashing through his mind.

* * *

“Why the fuck are we at a mall?” Connor raised an eyebrow as the car pulled into the mall parking lot.

“Listen, I’ve always wanted to go into an abandoned mall and I thought ‘hey, I’ll never have another chance to do it, may as well do it now.’” Jared laughed, stopping the car and getting out quickly.

They walked up to the doors, unsurprised at the distinct lack of cars, and Connor picked up a large stone off to the side. He held it out to Jared, a question on his face, and Jared took the rock from Connor, eyeing the doors.

“I’ve never broken into anything before, this is kinda cool.” A smirk spread across his face, and Connor couldn’t help but grin back.

“Fuckin’ go for it, dude.”

With a breath, Jared threw the rock as hard as he could against the glass doors, watching as the glass splintered under the pressure. They both flinched, thankful for their respective pairs of glasses for shielding their eyes. The noise of shattering glass was one neither was used to, though perhaps they would be forced to get past that.

Jared led the way into the mall, and soon they were walking down the long halls, listening to the echo of each step. It was unreal, the feeling of being alone in a place that should be full of life. The only light came from the sun streaming in through the windows on the ceiling, casting odd shadows across the expanse of the building.

Neither spoke for a few minutes, until finally Connor broke the silence.

“Why was Evan at your place overnight anyway? If it was a school night wouldn’t his parents want him to stay home?”

Jared exhaled through his nose slowly. “He gets super anxious sometimes, especially before the beginning of school. His mom wasn’t gonna be home until, like, five in the morning so he came to my place. We’ve done that before, him coming over and then going back home before Heidi gets back, so it was fine.” He shrugged, hands shoved deep into his pockets, “I was just trying to get him to calm down so he didn’t have an anxiety attack. Most times he isn’t able to sleep at all, so I’m surprised, really. I guess I did a good job this time.”

He let out a sickening chuckle, void of humour as it bounced off the vacant walls. Connor hummed, before speaking up again.

“Why weren’t _you_ asleep?” His eyes drifted up the walls and skirted across the second floor.

“I never fall asleep before he goes back home. I was playing Mario Kart to try ‘nd humour him and he just. Fell asleep on my shoulder. I tried to wake him up at four and nothing.”

Connor nodded, allowing the conversation to dissipate in the air as if it hadn’t happened. It quieted into murmurs written in the lines on their skin and memories hidden in their eyes.

“Did you do all that to yourself?” Jared spoke up again, and when Connor turned to him to shoot him a questioning eye he saw Jared’s gaze focused on his exposed forearms.

Connor rolled his sleeves up higher and his hands ran up and down the length of his arms. He stopped walking, eyeing each scar for himself before presenting them to Jared.

“Yeah. Don’t ask why, I don’t have any good excuse.” His voice was empty, watching carefully as Jared traced some of the lines softly, including the two reaching from inner elbow to wrist on each arm.

He gave a smirk, shrugging a shoulder while still holding his arms. “I’m not much better, not gonna lie.”

Connor frowned, but before he could respond Jared let go of his arms and continued walking.

“Y’know, I never thought I’d make it this far into the apocalypse, or whatever this is,” he stated, almost matter-of-factly.

“We’re only, like, fifteen hours in but please continue.” Connor match’s Jared’s pace again, hands in his pockets.

“Fair, but listen. I have a shit ton of medication for a handful of stuff, and it gets refilled every time I run out, right? Well, for months, almost a year maybe, I’ve saved a little bit at the bottom of each bottle. I figured that if everything went to shit I was gonna tap out before the world went totally fucking ballistic.”

Connor nodded, frown back in place. “That’s some dark shit, Kleinman.”

“You can’t talk, four eyes.” Jared shot a glare at Connor, though the statement caused Connor to snort.

“You’re wearing glasses too but anyway,” he paused for a moment, flashing a curious smile down at the still glaring Jared, “why are you telling me this?”

This caused Jared to hum in thought, teeth pulling at his bottom lip for a moment. “Y’know I’m not sure. I guess, since it’s the end of the world and all, I figured I may as well tell _someone_. No point in holding back.”

Connor chuckled at that, “well, in that case, _I_ might as well share that the most help I’ve gotten for my fucked up brain was a month in therapy and a month in rehab.” He shrugged, but at Jared’s questioning gaze he added, “Larry, my dad, was impatient and didn’t think either was working.”

“Your dad sounds like an asshole.”

“Yeah, he was. He didn’t really know what he was doing when it came to parenting.”

* * *

It can be frightening, how quickly things can disappear.

As easily as Connor blowing his cigarette smoke towards the ceiling as they travelled the second floor.

As simple as an offhanded question.

A lapse of judgement.

An inconsiderate statement.

And everything spreads, fueled by a puff of air to collapse and expand and explode until nothing remains.

“Why did we even buy those energy drinks ‘nd shit?” Connor asked before taking another breath of smoke. He held it in his lungs for just a moment before blowing it back out, watching the gray disperse.

“What do you mean? I dunno if you remember or not, but we can’t fall asleep or else we’ll die.” Jared didn’t watch the smoke, instead drifting his gaze around the building.

“I mean, yeah, but it’s not like we’re gonna survive this anyway, you know that. So I just don’t see why we got them.”

Jared let out a huff, and Connor may have laughed, pointed out the fact that Jared was acting like a child, had the air not felt so stiff and heavy.

“If we have a finite amount of time left I don’t see why we should make it any shorter, excuse me for trying to make the best out of this situation.” The last part was almost mumbled, almost made unintelligible in an attempt to set a foggy barrier between the rocky arrangement they had and falling back into the pattern of shouting in the school hall.

Almost.

“I’m sorry that I’m being rational and that I understand that trying to make our time in this bullshit situation _longer_ is an idiot’s mission,” Connor grumbled around his cigarette.

“Are you seriously calling me an idiot for being a _little_ optimistic? Seriously? I’ve given us the chance to _maybe_ cross some things off our bucket lists before we inevitably die and you’re calling me an idiot?” Jared had stopped walking and turned to face Connor, eyebrows raised.

“I mean, yeah. It’s fucking stupid to believe that anything can be gained out of, what, our 48 hours left? And that’s if we _really fucking try?_ What were you planning to do, go to an amusement park? Everything would be way fucking easier if we just let it happen or - better yet - we speed up the process.”

“I can’t tell if you’re telling me to kill myself in a really roundabout way but, y’know, I think you might be; that’s rich coming from you.” Jared scoffed, crossing his arms.

“I’m being fucking _reasonable,_ Kleinman! I’m saying that there’s genuinely no point to this!” The cigarette rested between Connor’s pointer and middle finger, dancing ever so slightly with every wave of his hand.

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a _psychopath_ maybe you’d get why I don’t want to fucking off myself right away! It’s not that hard to last out one more day, Connor!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucking blind to everyone else’s feelings it wouldn’t _just_ be you and me here right now! Are you sure you don’t need a stronger prescription, Kleinman?”

“Oh, in _that_ case maybe you should go off on your own and see how long it takes before you fucking lose it or come running back to me because you can’t stand to be alone?”

“Maybe I fucking will, that’d sure be funny, wouldn’t it? How’d you like _two_ teenager’s lives on your plate when you eventually kick the bucket _alone?_ ” Connor tossed the cigarette off the balcony to his side, not watching where it landed.

The two pairs of eyes locked, the silence punctuated with each sharp inhale. Fire ran through Connor’s veins, begging him to act. It tightened his muscles and flamed under his skin until the only thing he wanted to do was to feel his knuckles connect with something.

So he turned and walked away.

* * *

It only took a moment for Connor to find a store with stuff he could easily break. The doors were surprisingly easy to tear open, and he found himself throwing everything fragile he could reach. He kept picturing what would have happened had he stayed - had he used his fist against Jared instead of whatever overpriced product he was onto now.

Eventually he calmed down and was sitting on the floor staring ahead. Logically he knew he should get up. It was possible Jared had simply left, given up on dragging a dead weight around and gone straight to the car, but Connor had to at least look.

Luckily, Jared was the one who found him, travelling between aisles after spotting the still-open door. They looked at each other for a moment, before Jared sat down across from Connor.

“’m sorry about that,” Connor mumbled, fingers scratching up and down his arms. His eyes refused to look at Jared, instead focusing on his shoes. “I was kinda freaking out and I said some pretty bad shit, that wasn’t fair.”

Jared sighed, stretching out his feet so they aligned with Connor’s. “I’m sorry too. I said some shit I didn’t mean and that wasn’t fair, either.”

A beat passed, both fueled by an irrational fear of making eye contact after what had happened. But after a moment, Connor shifted so he was on the same side of the aisle as Jared. Neither said anything, they simply sat, arms pressed together in a comfort they both desperately needed.

“What do you say we drive west?” Jared spoke up after several minutes, breaking the silence.

“Any reason why?” Connor raised an eyebrow, watching as Jared took his hand and began playing with his fingers.

“Nah, just thought it could be fun. A last harraw, y’know? And I’ve never been out of this state so it’d be new.” Jared shrugged, gaze locked on the chipped black nail polish coating Connor’s nails.

“Sounds like a plan, let’s do it.”

* * *

“Do you remember me with short hair?”

“No, I bet it looked dumb, though.”

“Oh yeah, it was awful.”

* * *

“Evan broke his arm over the summer.”

“Oh yeah? How’d he do that?”

“He fell out of a fucking tree.”

A bark of laughter.

“Holy shit that’s fucking ridiculous.”

A beat of silence.

“Y’know, your laugh is kinda nice-”

“-Oh _please_.”

“It is!”

“Sure, okay.”

* * *

“Wait wait stop here, I want a donut and I bet they have a couple.”

“Sure, get me one too.”

“Are you kidding? I’m grabbing them _all_ if they’re any good, what do you take me for?”

“That’s my Connor.”

* * *

The window was open as Connor blew smoke into the air, watching as the highway went by. Neither Jared nor he could take the pressure waves of driving high speeds with the window open, so Jared had slowed down for the time being.

“Why were you at the orchard?” Connor asked after watching the smoke whip away.

Jared was silent for a brief moment before replying. “I dunno, really. I guess I wanted to go there after Evan ‘nd my moms. We’d gone there a lot when we were younger, so it just felt right to visit it again.”

Connor hummed, taking another inhale from the cigarette.

A hesitant grin.

“I guess we’re pretty lucky I did, right?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

“Okay, we’re stopping here so we can trade seats, I’m getting bored of driving.”

“Fair, we can also get some more drinks.”

“Nice.”

* * *

“My family used to go to that orchard all the time, too, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, we stopped after I started getting real bad, though. For a while it was really fun. I’ve only visited a couple times since then, though.”

“Any reason you went there today?”

“I guess it just felt right to end it where it started or whatever.”

“Yikes.”

“I mean, killing yourself isn’t exactly a pretty thing, Kleinman.”

“True, true.”

* * *

“Hey, it’s been 24 hours since this whole shitshow started!”

“Yeah, it has! Congrats on making it through day one, dude!”

“You too! Wanna check social media to see if anyone else’s still alive?”

“Morbid, but sure.”

* * *

“Ayyyyyyy 4:20.”

“Shut the fuck up, Connor. Keep driving.”

“Rude, you could at least show me some sympathy - when I smoked my last blunt I didn’t realize it was gonna be my last.”

“Oh boo hoo, I’m sure we could find some if we looked.”

“Nah, too much work.”

* * *

“Oh hey, I just got a message from someone.”

“Yeah? What’d they say?”

“They’re just freaked out seems like. Understandable, especially if they’re alone.”

“Try ‘nd help them out?”

“Already on it.”

A smile to blind eyes.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re asking me who my first crush was while I’m filling up an SUV we _stole._ ”

“That’s not an answer, Kleinman.”

“Fucking give me a second!”

The door slammed shut as Jared climbed back into the driver’s seat, glaring at Connor who was giving a playful grin.

“Fine, it was Evan, are you happy?”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Okay, your turn, who was _your_ first crush, Mr. Hot Topic?”

“Easy, it was Evan.”

“Holy fuck, that nerd was a local heartthrob and he didn’t even know it.”

* * *

The car pulled into an open field, Connor and Jared climbing out. The grass was coated with a thin layer of dew, the water glistening in the light as the sun began to rise.

They had both agreed they wanted to witness their final dawn without the hum of the car’s engine or barrier of glass. They wanted to simply stand and bask in the light in a way that was almost poetic in its tragic nature.

After the oranges and pinks and purples transformed into light blue, Connor turned to Jared. Neither had spoken for the duration of the sunrise, and both were hesitant to break the silence now that it had gone on for so long.

“Hey, Jared, we-” Connor huffed, hands crossing to pat on each arm and his gaze falling to his shoes- “we’re not gonna be lasting much longer, right?”

Jared’s brows furrowed, trying to catch Connor’s eye. “I mean, yeah, probably not. People can only go so long before shutting down, and I don’t know about you but I’m starting to seriously have trouble not falling asleep in the car.”

Connor hummed, making eye contact with Jared after a moment. He seemed to steel himself, taking in a long, slow breath, and his eyes seemed to search for something. An amalgamation of emotions collided in his own heterochromatic eyes to the point where Jared couldn’t spot anything specifically without question.

“Okay. Okay just. Push me away or say something if you don’t want this?”

Before Jared could shoot Connor more than a quirked eyebrow and worried frown, Connor’s eyes had closed.

To some, kissing is a simple press of the lips. Few emotions other than lust can be picked out from those kisses, a hungry need for physical closeness that can overwhelm and envelop and destroy.

To others, a kiss is pure emotion. Love, longing, fear of separation, an ever-changing sea of everything the two people involved are feeling. It could be a peck to the cheek, or a hesitant touch to the forehead.

But, as Jared and Connor stood in a silent field, surrounded by wild grass and flowers and trees that seemed to loom above them in a swaying embrace, this kiss was a message. It was a need to be close and an understanding of a fear that could not have been learned in any other circumstance. It was words that could not be spoken through shouts or whispers, words that seemed to play in Jared’s head, resonating from Connor’s chest.

And it was awkward, and over quickly as Connor pulled back and immediately turned away, fingers spinning the rings adorning his hand. It was made clumsy through height differences, made paralyzing through unexpected actions, but it spoke.

_We love each other; through desperation and loneliness we have fallen in love. And perhaps that isn’t the way two people are supposed to fall in love - it’s been said relationships started in traumatic circumstances never last - but chances are we won’t be here tomorrow, so, please, let us have this._

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me ‘Jared’ before,” he blurted, staring at the back of Connor’s head.

Connor let out something that sounded more like a cough than a laugh, his shoulders tense and fingers twitching just out of sight. “That isn’t a very good thing to say right after someone kisses you, dude.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, sorry, uh-” Jared let out a breath, reaching out for Connor’s arm to turn him. He winced at Connor’s flinch, but continued to turn him until they were facing each other again.

Connor’s eyes danced around them, something Jared found familiar yet incredibly new etched in the lines on his face. His finger didn’t cease their pulling of his rings, but Jared let this go, instead shoving his own hands into his pockets and playing with lint.

“I mean, we’re gonna die in, like, 24 hours so I don’t see the problem in kissing. I used to cuddle with Evan all the time before I started being a huge asshole so the closeness would be nice.” Jared shrugged, and gave a weary smile when Connor’s eyes met his.

Connor simply nodded, more to himself than to Jared. His brows furrowed as he cleared his throat, eyes shifting to the side again. “Okay, I’m glad you said that, and this is gonna sound really weird and off topic but is your phone still in the car?”

Jared blinked, confused for a moment before replying with a slow, “yes.”

Connor nodded again, closing his eyes and taking a moment. Jared couldn’t tell what was going on, he simply watched as Connor mumbled to himself, seemingly a list or a pattern. After a minute, however, Connor nodded for a final time, more confident and self-assuring than the last, and he opened his eyes.

“Okay, cool, sorry,” Connor mumbled, before shrugging. “Paranoia.”

“Nah, it’s fine, do what you have to, I get it.” Jared gave another smile before grabbing onto Connor’s hand. “Okay, time to get back on the road, staying still too long feels weird now.”

With a snort of laughter, the two ambled back to the SUV, hands grasping tightly to one another in a new sort of normal.

* * *

“Woah holy shit is that a cartilage piercing?”

“I have no idea how you’re only now realizing this, I’ve definitely worn my hair up to school before.”

“Yeah but I never really paid attention to that stuff back then, that’s fuckin’ awesome!”

“Thanks? I think? Sure.”

* * *

“Your hair looks hella soft, just saying.”

“Gay.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

A snort of laughter.

* * *

“Ugh, I keep almost falling asleep.”

“Do you want another Monster?”

“No, those things are starting to make me feel ill I’ll just. I’ll be fine, let’s just stop here so I can find a bottle of coffee.”

* * *

“Damn, I was a fucking awful friend to Evan.”

“Hm?”

“I mean, I literally made fun of him every chance I got. A lot of the time I’m pretty sure _I_ was the cause of his anxiety, and he fucking died thinking that I hated him, probably.”

“When he died what were you two doing?”

“I already told you, he was at my place-”

“-Because you were trying to help him. You were actively trying to better your behaviors, okay? Stop shitting on yourself so much, this all happened at the beginning of your improvement and that isn’t your fault. I’m sure he understood, at least to some degree, that you cared about him.”

A beat of silence.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

* * *

“Why do you call people by their last names all the time?”

“Do you want a sarcastic answer or a legit answer?”

“Legit answer.”

A shrug.

“It’s safer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I just call you ‘Kleinman,’ for instance, you feel less like a real person, I guess. It’s less personal that way, I don’t get as attached, and so we’re both inevitably less hurt when shit goes down.”

“That seems like a pretty shitty way to go about your day-to-day.”

“Yeah, but I never really had a habit of living my day-to-day very well.”

* * *

“Wait but you call Zoe by her first name.”

“What, do you expect me to call every member in my family ‘Murphy’?”

“Fair.”

“I call my parents by their first names, though - Cynthia and Larry. There’s a nice amount of disrespect in that.”

* * *

“How many fights have you been in?”

“Physical or verbal?”

“Eh, physical.”

“A lot. Sometimes because I was defending Evan’s honour or some bullshit. Most of the time I was just looking for a fight.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, sometimes I’d just want someone to hit me. I’d feel like I deserved it or something, so I’d piss off one of the bigger guys in our grade. Never really fought back all that much.”

“I kinda did the same thing. It’s a fucked up mindset.”

“You bet.”

* * *

“How many scars do you have and where?”

“A lot. My knees, mostly, but I have one on my elbow when I fell when I was little. You?”

“A lot. Mostly my arms but my hips ‘nd thighs, too.”

“Damn.”

“Damn to you, too.”

* * *

“Biggest regret?”

“Agreeing to drive for fucking five hours in a row.”

“I literally _just_ got done driving an hour ago, Connor.”

“Listen, I see your point, but also I’m a whiny bitch.”

* * *

“Can you say it again?”

“I have not, nor am I, nor will I ever secretly film you. Not for myself, not to show anyone else, or anything like it.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

The sun had begun to set below the horizon, allowing the sky to dance with oranges and reds and purples. It was truly captivating, making the long twisting highway slightly less dreary and empty than it was.

Connor pulled to the side of the road, throwing aside the habit of turning on his blinker - though a feeling of wrongness seemed to settle in his chest as he did so.

“Can we just stop for a little bit?” Connor’s hands still rested on the steering wheel, ten and two just as had been drilled into his skull. Or was it nine and three? He could no longer remember what Larry had said, and that seemed to tug on his chest even more.

“Uh, yeah, that’s fine. Do you wanna switch or…?” Jared’s question trailed off into silence that seemed to hang in the air for a moment.

“No, I just- here, come into the back with me,” Connor mumbled, seeming to rush out of the car while also cautiously waiting for Jared to follow suit.

They both climbed into the back seats, throwing empty bottles and food wrappers into the trunk to clear some space. Jared’s brow was raised, too tired to provide a friendly smirk but meaning it all the same. Connor simply pulled Jared onto his lap, arms wrapped around his middle and face hidden in the crook of his neck.

“I just wanna sit here, okay? Just for a moment. We can keep driving soon, but just a minute.” Connor’s voice was muffled by Jared’s shirt, and for a moment he tensed, irrationally fearful of being left alone.

But Jared’s arms snaked around Connor’s neck, and his head burrowed into the space in his shoulder where his hair fell, and the scent of Connor’s shampoo was all that was real for the moment. The feeling of warmth and safety and well-loved clothes was all that mattered for the moment.

And eventually Connor would let go, and Jared would risk brushing lips that would turn into a whispered conversation unable to be conveyed through words. Eventually they would get out of the car and Connor would return to the driver’s seat, and they would continue chasing the sun for as long as they could.

But for the moment they held each other, and nothing else existed past the car doors.

* * *

“Jared, fucking wake up.”

“Mpf, sorry, what were you saying?”

“Nothing just- don’t do that, okay?”

“Okay, sorry.”

* * *

“Connor, we’re drifting.”

“Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s fine, you doing good?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

* * *

“Have you ever painted your nails?”

“Not for years. I don’t think I could pull it off.”

“Bullshit, you’d look good in like, light blue.”

“Hm, wish I could find out.”

* * *

“I can’t believe we stopped driving so you could steal nail polish.”

“This is important! I’m gonna paint your nails blue, and I got some black so you can redo mine!”

“Why are we doing this?”

“Because I’m not gonna let you fucking die without knowing if you look good in blue nail polish.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So fuck you.”

A muffled snicker.  
“Fuck you too, I guess.”

* * *

“I fucking told you you’d look good.”

“Fair. Sorry for murdering your fingers.”

“It’s chill. You didn’t do terribly on the nails honestly, you just got it literally _everywhere._ ”

“Listen.”

“It’s cool, it’s cool! I got remover too so I’ll be saved from this sticky shitshow.”

* * *

“Connor, wake-”

“I fucking got it, Kleinman.”

The humming of the engine filled the silence.

“Sorry- I’m sorry, that was rude. Thank you for trying to make sure I didn’t fall asleep.”

“It’s no problem, sorry for reminding you so much.”

“Don’t apologize for that, you’re good. I get angry when I’m tired and I’m fucking exhausted, so it wasn’t your fault.”

“Okay, thanks for apologizing.”

* * *

Connor had stopped at a liquor store, and returned over the shards of glass with a couple bottles Jared didn’t recognize. They looked expensive, or maybe all alcohol looked expensive if you didn’t pay enough attention. He hadn’t thought much of it when Connor put them in the back, brushed it off as some special thing for later.

They had only been driving for a few minutes when the car’s blinker went on again, and it slowly pulled into the next parking lot. A part of this initial action was expected, maybe Connor hadn’t run to the bathroom at the last stop or he wanted something to drink - though a handful of energy drinks remained untouched in the back seats by both of them.

Jared looked up and the flickering lights of a neon sign glittered through the rain that had only begun a minute ago. The pink shimmered on broken tarmac and would have been incredibly calming had this been another time.

The car creaked to a stop, on its last legs after running for nearly two days straight. For a moment Jared wondered if they were going to be stranded at this rundown motel, or if the car would be able to start again after this. Then he wondered if it mattered either way.

“What’re we doing here?” Neither had spoken recently, so the crackling of his voice came as a surprise to them both.

Connor didn’t reply directly, simply got out of the car with a mumbled “follow me,” and broke into the nearest door after grabbing the two bottles. Jared followed, a pit of unease settling in his stomach with a hint of something warmer - something an awful lot like acceptance.

The room was cold, a cool clammy kind of feeling from the rain. It sent a shiver down his spine, but soon Connor had turned on the heat and had run back out to the car to grab something else. He returned with a large blanket and the remaining snacks they had, though when Connor had taken the blanket Jared couldn’t remember.

“Come on, Connor, what’re we doing?” Jared’s voice was still breaking at the edges, and he wanted to blame it on the exhaustion in his step and the circles under his eyes, but they both knew that wasn’t the cause.

Connor sat on the bed, and Jared joined him, the blanket wrapped around both of their arms.

“Listen, we’re not gonna be making it much farther, and I know that fucking sucks, but I’m _so tired,_ Jare. I’m so tired. I was falling asleep at the wheel and you weren’t doing much better.” Connor’s voice was ripping at the seams, too, and for a moment Jared didn’t even process the nickname or the meaning behind Connor’s words.

Connor was facing forward, as if afraid of what was happening, and maybe he was, but then he pulled up the two bottles and displayed them to Jared. “I thought about what you said- about the whole ‘last chance to do something’ thing. And this isn’t as cool as breaking into an abandoned mall but, I dunno, I’ve always wanted to drink in a shitty motel with someone chill.”

Connor shrugged, and Jared couldn’t help but snort out a laugh at the awkwardness of the situation. He took one of the bottles and lightly shoved Connor, examining it for a moment.

“I’m not gonna be getting _drunk,_ because that kinda fucks with my mind,” Connor added, feigning nonchalance, “but you can drink however much you want.”

Jared nodded to himself, “yeah, I’m not gonna get drunk either. I don’t think getting drunk is the best thing in our final hours, y’know?”  
Connor scoffed, a lip-torn smile spreading across his face, and pulled out a large bottle of coke with a raised eyebrow.

“Shall we?”

* * *

Music played as two bodies jumped up and down in time with the beat. Laughter, one more explosive than the other, rippled around the room. They felt their lungs burn, sides aching and faces tiring of smiling.

The music slowed, until it stopped, and two bodies were left swaying in tandem, listening to the rain.

If tears were shed, neither said anything.

* * *

Connor pulled Jared towards the bed, the silent tapping of rain against glass being the only noise remaining. Exhausted smiles were tainted with an underlying anxiety, and Jared could feel his hands shaking. Connor’s blood pounded in his ears, but his hands were still as they gently took off Jared’s glasses.

“Mm, you have nice eyes,” he murmured, slurred with his desperate need for sleep.

“You do too, nerd,” Jared chuckled as he took Connor’s glasses off, setting them next to his own pair on the bedside table.

They were quickly under the covers, Connor pulling Jared close against his chest and burying his nose in the nape of his neck. Jared could feel their hearts thumping in time with each other, and for a second, just long enough, they let themselves be truly afraid.

“Do you think we would’ve been friends?”

A pause of silence.

“Not as I was, but I think we could’ve been eventually, yeah.”

A wet snicker.

“Too bad the world had to end, being your actual friend might’ve been nice.”

A shuddering breath.

“Yeah, but I guess we got to hang out anyway, right?”

A pause of silence.

Connor’s grip tightened, and Jared turned to face Connor. Had it been another time, another life, maybe, Jared would’ve joked that Connor looked like he’d been smoking. He would’ve joked that Connor smelled like an ashtray, or his eyes looked like muddy ice.

But as tears dripped down the side of Connor’s nose, and Jared shook in his arms, all Jared could do was kiss his forehead, then the bridge of his nose, and finally brush their lips together.

“I’m glad we found each other eventually, though.”

Connor laughed, and he kissed Jared again. Tears fell faster, and soon they were clutching onto each other as they had what felt like a lifetime ago. The tears stopped quickly, however, both deciding they’d cried enough in the past two days.

And if they whispered “I love you”s, if they whispered “thank you”s or secrets they had wanted to share for years, who could blame them? Who could blame them for the fear flowing through their veins and etching itself into their spines?

But then, for the moment, they allowed themselves to feel loved. For the moment they allowed warmth to spread and allowed a feeling that, perhaps, had never been understood before fill up their chests.

And, for the moment, they allowed themselves to rest.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading !! obviously this was V Angsty n long but if you made it through, thank you dearly ! I really enjoyed writing this, and I wanted to write something with these two assholes in it but I didn't have any good ideas haha.
> 
> stay safe, everyone, and take care!
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> Tumblr: trash-mammall


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